Little Folk
by raindrops-and-dreams
Summary: Bluebell Baggins is not in fact a deranged spinster. Yes, perhaps she ran off with a troop of dwarves at the will of a wizard. And yes, maybe she faced a dragon. And of course, there might be that one time in which she fought in a war. But no, she is far from deranged; that Lunaria Baggins will fight for. Fili/OC Thorin/Bilbo Bagginshield Fem!Bilbo Post BOTFA. No main deaths
1. Characters

Lily Cole as Lunaria Baggins

Tori Kelly as Bluebell Baggins

August Maturo as Frodo Baggins

Richard Armitage as Thorin

Graham McTavish as Dwalin

Ken Stott as Balin

Holly Marie Combs as Dis

William Kircher as Bifur

James Nesbitt as Bofur

Stephen Hunter as Bombur

Dean O'Gorman as Fili

Aidan Turner as Kili

John Callen as Oin

Peter Hambleton as Gloin

Mark Hadlow as Dori

Jed Brophy as Nori

Adam Brown as Ori


	2. Lunaria Baggins, Not At Your Service

**Khuzdul** ** _Green Tongue (Hobbit language)_** **Chapter 1: Lunaria Baggins, Not At Your Service**

Contrariwise to popular belief, Bluebell Baggins was not in fact a deranged spinster. Yes, perhaps she ran off with a troop of dwarves at the will of a wizard. And yes, maybe she faced a dragon. And of course, there might be that one time in which she fought in a war. But no, she is far from deranged; that is an argument Lunaria Baggins would fight for. For how could her sweet Aunt, whom allowed Lunaria, and her brother, entrance to her home, after the death of their parents, be anything but kind. In Lunaria's opinion Bluebell Baggins fit her namesake: constant, and kind, and full of humility. Lunaria was fully aware that horrors continued to haunt Bluebell, and had herself spent many a night listening to the tales. And what tales they were. Of kings, and dragons, and far off lands. With love, and friendship, and family. True tales that acted as children's fairytales for Lunaria's young brother, Frodo. But fairytales do not always have happy endings. Perhaps Bluebell Baggins was content with her life- raising her favourite cousin's children- but she was far from happy, contrary to the joyous facade she displayed to all. Well, that is, all but Lunaria Baggins, who (for the two years since Bluebell had returned, and had taken Lunaria and Frodo from the custody of Lobelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins) had been the one soul to see Bluebells tears, and hold her whilst she wept. For these reasons, it is understandable why Lunaria was protective in such a way, and for this you must excuse her manners at the beginning of our story, for Lunaria Baggins was simply atrocious at first impressions.

Lunaria Baggins personality has been said to be personified in her hair. The large mess of blazing curls distinctly represent her, for she truly is as fiery as the bright orange, bordering red, hair, and truly, it is said, she is as unruly as the curly mop. Far from a respectable hobbit, many speculate about the strange lass, who (although now of age) refused to court. Being a Baggins ought to make her respectable folk, they would say. Truly, all her suitors believe they could be the one to tame the wilful Baggins. They wished to be the one who 'saved' the wayward Baggins. But none of them were ever honest about it. Instead they approached her with declarations of love, and admiration. If there is one thing every hobbit knew about Lunaria Baggins, apart from her wildness, it was that she is honest. Honest to the point it was considered rude. But, for the life of her, she could not stand the snide, backhanded, pettiness, that was woven into hobbit society, so, instead, she was brutally honest. That was why, when young hobbit lads and lasses declared their undying love for her she immediately turned them away. Because she knew that if they were being honest they would admit the reasons they wished to have her hand was so that they could gloat their conquest, and raise their social standing, and because (until Frodo is old enough for his half) she was the soul heir to Bag End and all the surrounding properties owned by Bluebell Baggins. It was due to her honest mouth (and the fact the flower that was her namesake is most commonly known as such) Bluebell Baggins nicknamed her Honesty. It was that nickname which woke her early morn, in mid-Thrimidge. Oh, and what a day it was.

"Honesty?" Bluebell Baggins knocked gently upon her niece's door, "Breakfast is ready." With bleary eyes, Lunaria pulled herself from the comforting warmth of her bed, wrapping her dressing gown over her scandalously short nightgown (the skirt of which barely reached her knees).

Monotonously, Lunaria chewed her food, sitting at the dining room table with her aunt. Vividly aware that her niece was far from a morning person, Bluebell remained in a comfortable silence.

The two ladies of Bag End continued their imperious routine of cleaning, cooking, reading, mending and readying themselves for the day ahead. By happenstance, Bluebell was bathing when the knock came, leaving young Lunaria to answer the door. Such a mundane thing to do received no second thought as she pulled open the front door. A shock, however did come, as she so happened to be faced with a troop of dwarves. The surprise wore away from her quickly, as a fierce glare contorted onto her face. With anger flooding her, she flicked her wrist sharply, in an attempt to slam the door in their faces. She was thwarted by a large, heavy boot, which found its way into the doorway.

Cracking the door open, just enough to block the open gap with her body, she glared at the owner of the boot.

"Wha'd ya' wan'?" She grunted out in a low tone, hoping and praying not to gain Bluebell's attention.

The dwarrow in front of her was quite handsome she supposed, in a ruggish, middle aged way. His chin and jawline bold with pride, his brown, greying hair well past his shoulder, and his beard slightly shorter. Both his hair and beard were both filled with intricate braids, and beautifully made beads. He wore what appeared to be an unspeakable amount of layers, all of which, she was certain, were filled with weapons, to accompany the sword in his belt, and the sword strapped to his back. Piercing blue glowers at her as he stared.

"Is Mistress Baggins here?" His deep voice rumbled, commanding an answer. Lunaria scowled at him, muscles tense.

"You're not welcome here. Go away." She spat.

"You do not know who I am, so how could it be that I am not welcome?" The stranger enquired diplomatically.

"Don't need to." Lunaria bit back. Truthfully she already had a strong idea who he was, and as long as she had her way, he was not going anywhere near her aunt.

Unimpressed by the blunt hobbit, the dwarrow's expression darkened slightly, "At least allow me to introduce myself. Thorin Oakenshield, at your service." He dipped his head slightly in a bow to her. Anger flooded Luneria as she stared, unblinking at him. After several moments of silence, some of Thorin's carefully controlled patience began to slip away. "Will you not reciprocate, m'lady?" He enquired.

Her expression grew more stormy with each moment she resided in his presence. "Lunaria Baggins, not at your service." She spat. The crowded dwarves' hands automatically touched to their weapons in defence of their king. "Now," She squared her shoulders, "You are not welcome here. Leave."

"Do you know to whom you speak?" Growlsled out the tattoo covered, wall of muscles, balding dwarrow, who stood slightly behind the king.

A humourless, bitter laugh escaped Lunaria's lips, "Oh I know exactly who I'm speaking to." Lunaria's nerves and protective instinct were completely on edge, and as King Thorin took a step forward her hand reached for Sting. Remarkably quick, the tip of the blade was placed at Thorin's throat. "Now," She stepped forward, forcing him to step back, "You are not welcome here. So I suggest you take your leave."

Unluckily for Lunaria Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield was a Durin, and, if nothing else could be said about the Longbeard clan, Durins were exceedingly stubborn. "We will not be leaving until we see Bluebell." Thorin growled out, temper finally slipping.

"You've done enough already! You are not welcome here! You will not see her. I won't have you hurting her again. You have already done enough. Just leave." Lunaria commanded. Thorin, and his company, winced at her words, although Thorin also hardened his resolve.

"We shall see her." He dictated.

Gripping Sting tightly, knuckles growing white, Lunaria snarled out, "You-"

"Luna, what are you doing out here?" Bluebell Baggins' eyes flickered over the situation: her dwarves, minus a few, crowded outside her smial, her irate niece holding Sting to Thorin's neck. "Thorin." She breathed a sigh. "Let them in m'dear." She commanded. Lunaria warred between following her aunts command and protecting her. Her protective instincts won out. "Honesty." Bluebell rebuked sternly, when the sword did not lower. Glaring once more at Thorin, Lunaria slowly lowered Sting.

"I don't like you." She admitted bluntly to Thorin, "I don't think you deserve to be in my aunts presence, and I don't want you here." She graced him with another foul look, before spinning on her heel and stalking back into the smial.

It took a moment before Bluebell and their 'guests' entered. The dwarves wiped their boots upon the mat and hung their cloaks upon the hooks, before filing down the hall in pursuit of Bluebell. Tersely, they sat in the parlour, which was openly attached to the dining room, and, in turn, the kitchen. Lunaria leant against the wall, arms crossed tensely over her chest.

"I see you've met Lunaria, my niece." Bluebell approached, by way introduction, as she gestured a hand at Lunaria. "Lunaria, this is-"

"I know who they are." Lunaria angrilly interrupted. "Thorin Oakenshield and his merry little band of dwarrows." She gave them another scathing glare. "They oughtn't be here." She hissed.

"They are my friends." Bluebell told her sternly.

Lunaria gave a humourless snort, "Yeah, alright."

Bluebell sighed, "And what is that supposed to mean, Luna?"

"Nothing. It's your choice if you want to be friends with people who treat you terribly." She shrugged with fake nonchalance.

"They don't treat me terribly!" Bluebell defended.

Lunaria rolled her eyes, "He," She pointed at Thorin, "Attempted to kill you, and then banished you. They-" She waved her hand at the rest of the company, "Sent you to face a dragon alone."

"I signed a contract." Bluebell argued.

"So?" She rolled her eyes again, "Friends don't let friends walk into danger alone." The company seemed to visibly wilt with each of her words.

Bluebell sighed through her nose. "Enough, Luna." She said sternly, "Let's start this again. Perhaps you should introduce yourselves?" She smiled lightly as she urges the dwarrows.

Sharing a look, the young blonde and brunette- each adorned with many braids and beads (like all of the dwarrows crowded in the parlour)- had a silent conversation. Matching grins crawled onto their faces, as they eagerly attempted to help ease the tension.

"Fili-" The blonde began.

"And Kili-" Continued the brunette.

"At your service." They bowed simultaneously.

Lunaria raised an eyebrow sarcastically, "How long did you practice that?"

"Not very long." The brunette shrugged playfully.

"Why? Impressed, Princess?" He winked. Rolling her eyes she looked away from him, and towards the others.

"Dwalin-" The angry, tattooed dwarrow from before grunted.

"Balin-" The shortest, and oldest (his long hair and beard a shining white), dwarrow said.

"Bofur, and that's me cousin Bifur-" The dwarrow with the funny hat grinned, as he gestures the wild one, with an axe in his head.

"Dori-" A greying dwarrow, who's muscles were probably larger than Grumpy's.

"Nori-" Smirked the dwarrow next to him.

"Ori-" The last one smiled tentatively at her.

"At your service." They harmonised, with a bow.

"Lovely." Lunaria drawled, drawing out the word, although her tone was in antithesis with the word. Another tense silence filled the room for several minutes.

A small voice finally shocked them all out of the uncomfortable reverie, "What's going on?"


	3. Lunaria Shall Be Difficult To Convince

**Khuzdul** ** _Green Tongue (Hobbit language)_** **Chapter 2: Lunaria Shall Be Difficult To Convince**

Lunaria sighed lightly through her nose, before she plastered a smile onto her face. "Nothing, honey." She said gently, walking towards the young fauntling. "Auntie Bell has some guests is all." She scooped him up into the air before planting him onto her hip. Teasingly she tickled his stomach, eliciting giggles from him. "You going to help me in the kitchen, Fro?" She grinned with fake excitement. Smiling widely the fauntling nodded. With her little brother securely held on her hip, she sashayed through the dinning room and into the kitchen, glad the many dwarrow in her home were still in view. She kept one eye on them, and the other on Frodo, as she efficiently began to cook Second Breakfast.

Bluebell sighed again as she looked at Thorin, keeping a safe distance away, "Why are you here, Thorin?" She said with resignation.

He looked deeply into her eyes, "I came to apologise. I should have come a long time ago. I am so sorry for what happened at the wall, and everything thereafter, and much of before as well. I treated you with disrespect from the moment I met you, when I should have cherished you, my One. Then you forgave me for all my misgivings and enlisted your trust into me. I abused that trust. Being under the dragon sickness is not, and could never be an excuse for how I treated you. I-" He cut himself off and took a calming breath, "After that, after the battle you left, and even though I was attempting to rebuild my kingdom, I should have come to you long before now. One year is too long, let alone two, almost three. My transgressions against you are unforgivable, but please, please know I am so very sorry." The king dropped to his knees before her, holding out a knife to her. Slowly she shook her head in denial- for, although she did not know much dwarven tradition, she knew this, and she did not want his beard cut, especially not by her own hand. His head was bowed to her as he presented the knife, she could see the shine and glint of tears on his cheeks.

"Oh, Thorin." Her voice was a soft whisper. Her small hands cupped his face, looking him in the eye, with her thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. "I already forgave you, I forgave you a few weeks after I returned to the Shire."

He appeared broken as he looked up at her, "Then why didn't you come home?" His voice broke, sinking her heart with it.

"I was unsure you would have me." She smiled wryly at him. "I am sorry I stole the Arkenstone."

His nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of the stone, "Blast the stone." He muttered bitterly, " 'Tis buried deep with my grandfather, where it belongs." Gently he reached and cupped her cheek. Bluebell leant into his palm. "I love you." He declared to her.

"And I love you." She whispered, before pressing her lips to his. The surrounding dwarrow cheered.

"Come home." Thorin pleaded, his forehead leant against hers.

Bluebell sighed, "Of course." She glanced towards the kitchen, "Although Lunaria shall be difficult to convince." After a long round of hugs, Bluebell ushered the dwarrow into the dining room, certain the food was almost ready.

Lunaria scowled as she watched her aunt interact with the dwarrows. She was not happy, and entirely unimpressed. She kept a happy smile paintpainted on her face as she talked to her younger brother. Frodo was none the wiser about the tempest that was his sister's anger.

"Here, sweetie." Lunaria beckoned, "You take these cups out and make sure everyone has one for me, yeah?" He nodded enthusiastically, rushing out of the room. Lunaria kept an eye on him as she plated twelve breakfasts. She filled several pots of teas and coffee. Taking them out, two at a time, she scattered the pots around the table, doing the same with jugs of water, milk and orange juice. She sat Frodo (who had been giving out cutlery) onto the free seat between Bifur and Nori. With a talent not many people posses, she carried four full plates out at once. She placed the middle balanced one in front of Dwalin, the one in her left hand in front of Dori (who sat to his left), then the one in her right hand was for Ori, as she continued clockwise around the group, and the one atop her head was then for Nori.

As she entered the room again, she skipped Frodo, placing the middle dish down for Bifur, the one in her right hand was given to Bofur simultaneously with the one in her left a hand which was give to Kili. The one from upon her head was placed in front of Fili, who winked at her as a thank you, before rejoining the boisterous conversation.

Re-entering the room with three dishes, Lunaria placed one down in front of Balin, skipping Thorin she gave another to Bluebell, before the last dish in her hands was slammed in front of Thorin, who also received a glare, before Lunaria sauntered out the room. She entered a final time with the last dish, which she placed in front of Frodo. Lifting him up, she sat in his seat before placing him upon her lap. She tuned out the ongoings that surrounded them, focusing solely on her brother, whom she was feeding.

"Lady Lunaria, are you not going to eat?" The loud voice of Fili cut through the loud, happy chatter, silencing them within seconds. Lunaria raised her head, and gave him a harsh, scathing look.

"M'lady, yer gotta eat!" Bofur cried, his face morphed into a picture of horror. This quickly led to an uproar of dwarrows yelling at her to eat.

Frodo had not enjoyed the uproar and covered his ears with his hands, a gesture that was quickly noticed by his unimpressed sister. She covered his hands with her own before bellowing, "Be quiet you blithering, inconsiderate idiots." They all appeared to silence immediately, staring at her with varying ranges of emotion- from anger to shock to guilt. Quietning her tone coldly she continued, "Can you not see you have made him distressed? Are you so thoughtless as to not consider what affect your ruckus might have upon a fauntling?" Her glare could have shattered diamonds.

"Honesty." Bluebell sighed sternly, "That is not how you speak to guests." Bluebell's reprimandation, however, was not harsh, for she new Lunaria's temperment.

"She is right." Thorin countered softly after, placing a gentle hand upon his beloved's arm, "We did not mean to be so careless, m'lady, and for that we are humbly sorry."

Lunaria rolled her eyes, "How politically polite." She scoffed, "I take your words, but am wary of their quality."

Thorin straightened his back as he stared the young adult in front of him straight into the eye, "My word is my honour." He grumbled affrontedly.

"Hence I worry for its quality." She bit back cruelly, a deafening silence balancing over the group, like a feather on a cliffs edge: delicate and unstable.

"You do not like me, I understand that, but-" Thorin's rumble was cut off obscenely.

"Oh be quiet. I care not for your words and less so for your opinions." Lunaria removed her hands from Frodo's ears (in turn signalling him to do the same). "Now, if you'll excuse us, it is time to start Frodo's lessons." She stood, taking Frodo's small hand into her own.

"If you're amiable, m'lady, I could help with the wee one's lessons." Wisened old Balin offered, a kind, grandfatherly smile placed upon his lips.

Keeping her face blank, Lunaria stoically responded, "I doubt you'd know enough of hobbit lore to be of much help." Frodo tapped his sister's leg, sensing her darkening mood. She quickly lifted him into her arms, as he cuddled into her neck in an attempt to comfort her.

"I would love to learn, then." Balin pressed with a smile. 'Somebody needs to get this lass to open up to us a bit.' He thought.

Lunaria sighed through her nose as she stared at the meddlesome dwarrow, "Look. I don't do slights and underhand comments. I can't be bothered with petty word play, and I say things how they are. I tried to be polite then, but thats not me." She took a little breath from her rant, "I don't like you. Any of you. I don't want you near my brother, so no, you shan't be present for his lessons." With that the siblings exited the room, the younger of the two curled up into the elder in an attempt to calm her.

"Come on, Fro." Sighed Lunaria. The hobbit in question was staring longingly at the sun splattered fields. "Get this done then you can have Luncheon, then go and play." She shuffled her seat, leaning further over his book. "Now, read me the rest of the chapter."

Frodo smiled at his sister, refocusing his efforts into finishing. He began to read: _**"Sadness breeds sadness, but love fights it. Hobbits draw comfort from contact with loved ones, which is one of the many reasons hobbits have such large families. Love can heal a hobbit's soul, and, in such, heartbreak can be fatel."**_

 _ **"Fatal."**_ Lunaria gently corrected the word Frodo stumbled over. _**"Keep going."**_ She encouraged with a smile and a nod.

 _ **"Hobbits have halves (similarly to those of elves). Halves fit a hobbit's soul perfectly, a gift Yavanna kindly gave us. Halves are often the cause of souldeath, which is why they are to be honoured and treasured carefully. A closely kept secret."**_ Frodo looked up at Lunaria, wonder twinkling in his eyes, _**"Why do we keep halves secret from outsiders?"**_

Lunaria sighed, _**"How about I tell you the story as your bedtime story tonight?"**_ Frodo thought to argue, before remembering he had to finish the rest of the chapter before he could go outside and play. Hurriedly he nodded. _**"Keep going then, my most cherished. You're almost finished."**_

Frodo snapped his attention back to the book, _**"Contrary to the belief of others, hobbits are not descendents of men. Hobbits were created by Yavanna- I know this part!"**_ Frodo cut himself off, grinning widely at Lunaria, who smiled gently in return.

 _ **"Oh yeah?"**_ She questioned with astonishment one often gives children, _**"Tell me about it then?"**_

 _ **"Well,"**_ Frodo took a deep breath before his speech came out in a speedy, jumbled mess with no breaths in between, _**"Lady Yavanna created the Ents to look after creatures big and small but when the Ent-wives disappeared the Ents forgot to look after the small creatures so she created hobbits to do what the Ents didn't. That's why we care for the earth and animals and stuff!"**_ He was out of breath by the time he'd finished. Lunaria giggled at his antics.

"Exactly." She grinned, switching to Common Tongue. "You are done for today. Go clean up for Luncheon, and help Auntie Bell lay the table." She ruffled his hair as he jumped down and ran quickly from the room.

Lunaria hummed cheerfully to herself as she flittered around, tidying the study from Frodo's lessons.

"Having fun, princess?" His voice made her jump and spin around, placing a book back down onto the table.

"I was." She sighed, "And then a loathesome oaf appeared." She turned her back on him and scanned the bookcase. For, you see, Lunaria Baggins was as stubborn as any dwarf, and she was surely begrudging the numerous dwarrow in her home for their dishonour against her most favoured aunt.

Some light flickered out of Fili's eyes, and guilt twitched Lunaria's heart. He put on a teasing grin, "You wound me, love." He placed a dramatic hand upon his heart.

"Is there a reason you are here, Master Fili?" She sighed, glancing over her shoulder.

"Can one not simply wish to offer another company?" He drifted closer to her.

"Not if the one who is offered such company denies the offer." Lunaria rebuked, side stepping him and walking from the room.

"You have made no such denial yet, m'lady." He followed her from the room.

"This would be such a denial, your most highness." She spat, continuing from the hall.

"M'lady, I am simply wondering the house, and you happen to be where I wonder." He teased with a smirk.

"Then I must find myself wondering elsewhere." She bit out, walking through the round front door and into the open air, slamming it in his face.


	4. Eratius Took And The Lord Of Gondor

**Khuzdul**

 _ **Green Tongue (Hobbit language)**_

 **Chapter 3: Eratius Took and the Lord of Gondo** **r**

After Supper Lunaria sat in her favourite chair in the parlour. This chair was not beautiful. Its once bright yellow and orange pattern had faded into a brown and beige blob. It smelt like old people. A spring would stick out and into her leg if she sat in it wrong. But still it was her favourite. It was her favourite because of its over stuffed cushions, that offer nothing but comfort. Because, behind the smell of old people, it smelt like books and adventurous stories to escape into. Because it still had the tea stain from where her great-grandpa Gerontius spilt her great-grandma Adamanta's favourite tea. Lunaria could almost smell the jasmine. Because it had the uneven stitching on its arm where her grandma Mirabella began to teach her needlepoint. Because it still had the charcoal stain from where Lunaria had dropped her drawing in her hurry to show her mother, and Primula looked at that doodle like it was her greatest treasure. And even though it sat in a different smial, it was still placed in a warm spot by the hearth. And even though the people who held her were gone, it still offered her comfort when she was sad or scared. Because even though it was old, it had so many stories left to share.

The familiar scent of the chair, and the padded cushions offered Lunaria comfort as she monotonously embroidered wildflowers onto the skirt of a new dress she had made. She still couldn't understand why her aunt had forgiven those dwarrow so quickly. Said dwarrow flittered in and out of the room, loud and boisterous as ever. Thorin and Bluebell sat at the dinning room table, holding hands and catching up. Smiles were imprinted on both of their faces.

It was until Lunaria had finished a quarter of the skirt that her thoughts finally cleared and she could think logically. Her stubbornness fled as she came to her conclusions. She thought, 'Of course Bluebell had forgiven the dwarrow. They were her family. You can dislike family all you wish, but never can you hate them. And Thorin was her half.' Lunaria sighed. Just because she understood, did not mean she was happy about it. It certainly did not mean she had to like them. Exhausted of her own thoughts, Lunaria poured herself into her needlework.

It could not have been to long later that a yawning Frodo tugged on her skirt. _**"Will you tell me the story about halves now?"**_ Frodo spoke in Green Tongue. _**"Please?"**_ He added on as an after thought.

Lunaria gave him a gentle smile, "You get changed, brush your teeth and hope into bed. I'll meet you there, then we can have that story." Frodo grinned and scurried off. Luckily, he didn't forget to kiss his aunt goodnight first.

"You're tellin' the lad a story?" Bofur loud voice echoed cheerily, "Love a good story myself. Mind if I hear?" Whilst Bofur wasn't lying, he was also forefilling the pact the dwarrow had made- to try to make the hobbit lass open up.

"Its about a hobbit secret." Bluebell cut in, before Lunaria could answer. The older hobbit gave her friend an apologetic smile. He shrugged it off with a grin. Dwarves were more than familiar with cultural secrets so he paid it no mind.

Lunaria carefully put away her needle, before placing her embroidery on her seat. With that, she went to find her little goblin of a brother.

Lunaria smiled as she saw him sat ready and excited in bed. "Lay down." She instructed as she sat on the edge of the cot. _**"Long ago, in lands far and wide, hobbits were a wondering peoples."**_ Lunaria swapped to Green Tongue. Frodo's eyes were glued to her as she spoke. _**"A respectable hobbit of great standing named Eratius Took met his half. His half was a Lord of Gondor. So, of course, Eratius began to befriend the Lord. Lord Andomir was his name. Eratius and Andomir grew to be great friends. And Eratius fell in love."**_ Lunaria smiled sadly as she censored the story to make it faunt friendly. _**"But when he asked Andomir to court him, Andomir responded with disgust and hate. For men do not have halves, and they find love of the same gender to be insanity and criminal."**_ Frodo gasped in horror, _**"Andomir told the people of Gondor of Eratius' perceived crime and the men locked him in a cell. Luckily Eratius had ten siblings who came and broke him free. Together they fled. Never to return to Gondor again. The men of Gondor then took to killing hobbits for being 'unnatural'. Hobbits hid until memories of their origins faded from other races' meemories. And so halves are kept a secret, even today."**_

Frodo looked at his sister in sadness, _**"What about Eratius? What happened to him?"**_

 _ **"He faded of a vroken heart."**_ Lunaria said softly, stroking a comforting hand through her brother's hair. Fairytales do not always have a happy ending. _**"Everyone is safe now."**_ She soothed.

Lunaria stayed with her brother until he was asleep. Once he was, she silently left his room, shutting the door in her wake. She was half surprised that the dwarrow were only talking in whispers when she returned, obviously cautious not to wake the fauntling.

As she walked through the dinning room Bluebell looked up. "What story did you tell?"

Lunaria paused her walk. She turned to face her aunt, "Eratius Took and the Lord of Gondor."

Bluebell raised her eyebrows at her nice, "Not the full version, I assume."

Lunaria snorted dryly, "A child friendly version." She promised, giving her aunt a kiss on the cheek before continuing to her chair.

Lunaria picked up her embroidery. Mindless of the dwarrow around the smial, she fell back into the monotonous stitching of her embroidery. Her mind full of halves. Of her half. The young girl gave such a burdened sigh, that the surrounding dwarrow shot her looks of worry.

As the even grew wearily on, the dwarrow slowly rose and left for bed. Bluebell watched her niece. She tutted. The young hobbit lass had her head too full of thoughts. And, as was wont to often be and issue for Lunaria, Bluebell knew it would be a long time until she found sleep. So, Bluebell kissed her niece's forehead goodnight, and ushered the remaining dwarrow to their beds. It was almost an hour until false dawn, when Lunaria's weary eyes finally shut.

Around the time of false dawn, Fili awoke. Something at the back of his mind was nagging him. He decided it'd be best to get some water before going back to sleep. He wasn't expecting to see Lunaria asleep in the odd brown armchair. Her embroidery was held limply in her hand. Gently he took it from her grip, placing it safely on the table. He covered her with a soft quilt that was folded over the back of the sofa. He smiled softly before returning to bed. The nagging feeling forgotten and gone.

Lunaria woke slightly before dawn. She smiled at the quilt covering her- she assumed Bluebell put it over her at some point. She refolded it neatly. She looked through the window. Dawn was not quite over the horizon, so she lit a couple of candles, and took up her embroidery again.


End file.
